Purpose
by Elements99
Summary: The evens unfold around them for a reason. Peter, Claire and the rest of the Heroes come into their powers.
1. Prologue

Purpose ( AU )

By: BitbyBit

**Prologue**

November 14, 1988- New York City- Plaza Hotel

Anthony Petrelli looked down at the sleeping bundle nestled warmly in the bassinet beside his wife. He turned to the raven haired woman leaning up against the enclosed balcony windows. She was dressed in a form fitting suit and her hair was swept back from her face in a bun. She had icy blue eyes that could be described as beautiful if not for the deadly glint in them.

He stood beside her, taking in the winter wonderland that was New York City. The sky was a murky grey and the trees of Central Park were bare. The woman examined the older man's face. Anthony Petrelli was not a bad looking man and having tons of money made most people even more attractive.

She glanced over at the bassinet that Angela Petrelli was currently rocking. She wondered what they had planned for the baby that lay in it. Did they plan on just handing the child over to whomever or was there some deeper reason for them wanting this particular baby? She thought back to holding the fussy baby in her bloodstained arms. With all that had happened around him, he been unfazed by it all. That baby boy opened his big brown eyes and smiled at her. She remembered smiling back, and having to banish the smile just as quickly when her team came back into the apartment.

The plane ride from San Francisco back to New York had been an experience. She could have held that boy forever if only to get him to smile at her as he did before. She had never seen herself as the maternal sort but a sense of protectiveness gathered in her whenever she held him. She told herself that she was just being this protective of him because she was protecting her paycheck. Still those brown eyes matched with that little smile was so endearing…

She shook her head pushing those thoughts away as quickly as they had come. She'd done her job and that was it. This was most likely the last time she would even see that kid.

It took her a moment to realize that Petrelli had spoken to her.

"The parents?" he asked as he sat beside his wife, never taking his eyes off her.

She smiled fondly "I know for a fact that the father is dead. I did the honor myself. The mother, I am waiting for confirmation from my people. She met us at the door, said she'd known for some time that we were coming for him--"she jerked her head toward the bassinet, "-said she dreamed this would happen, over and over, that he was special and that she wouldn't let us take him. Obviously she was wrong."

"As soon as you have confirmation you will give us word. We can't afford to have this woman just showing up out of the blue". Angela snarled coldly.

"Yes ma'am" the woman replied automatically.

Anthony stood to his feet and reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. The woman smiled as he offered it to her.

"Perhaps that should wait Anthony. She hasn't finished her job just yet. Linderman hugged his old friend tightly, kissed Angela on the cheek then turned to the young woman. He spoke pointedly at her " Plus I have one more assignment for you"

The party of three looked to the glass double doors as a man dressed impeccably in a black designer suit with silver hair stepped onto the enclosed balcony.

Linderman's presence would be imposing to most others but not to Anthony and Angela Petrelli. In fact the trio was old friends.

Linderman stepped over to the bassinet. He watched the baby for a few moments then smiled "He's adorable"; he said it like one would regard a puppy. "What's his name?"

"Peter" The woman answered.

"Hmmm… Peter Petrelli". Linderman put his hand on his chin. "I supposed it works. Are the parents a non issue, Madison?"

"Yes, Mr. Linderman".

"Then our plan is working out perfectly." He turned to Madison and gestured for her to follow.

"Yes, Mr. Linderman?" She followed him in to the hotel room, arms folder behind her back as she walked. The Perfect soldier, ready to do as commanded.

He led her over to a large antique desk. On top was a large packet. He picked it up and handed it to her.

"I need you to go to Texas my dear. There is a young woman named Meredith who is of particular interest to us. Her and her infant daughter Claire", he emphasized the word infant "Being that you're no stranger to situations such as this I'm sure you know what to do."

Madison smiled knowingly and took the large packet.

Linderman made his way back onto the balcony. Madison opened the packet. She examined the contents then sighed.

"Odessa, Texas here I come."


	2. Chapter 1

Purpose ( AU )

By: BitbyBit

**Chapter One**

"It's a good thing nobody is in the house but us" Peter murmured in her ear before moving down to kiss her neck.

Claire kept her eyes closed but couldn't hold back her smile. "Why is that?"

"Well if someone were to come in and find you… and me…on my bed…in this postion…" he trailed off letting her make up the rest in her mind

"Well we aren't doing anything... not really" She sat up running on hand through his hair while she leaned in to caress his lips with hers.

"You keep kissing me like this and that will change."

"Really?" Claire said teasingly. She slipped her hand under his shirt running her hands over his flat muscular stomach.

Peter hissed and jumped

Claire giggled. "I love making you do that."

"I've noticed." Claire laid back on the bed, her blond hair fanning out on his white comforter, while Peter positioned himself over her.

Peter touched her side and Claire laughed then snorted, very loudly at that. She covered her mouth with her hand when Peter eyed her suspiciously. Though even that couldn't contain her embarrassed laughter.

"Ticklish I see," Peter said, surprised. "All the time we've been together and I never knew that was a tickle spot"

He returned his hand to that spot again and Claire squealed, though it still was muffled by her hand. Her blue eyes were wide and her cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

"You're making some really undignified sounds you know?"

"You know you love it."

"That I do. I guess I'll have to find some other spots that are just as sensitive"

Peter was about to lean down and kisses her again when the door to his room opened. He and Claire did their best impression of shrapnel when they leapt off the bed in opposite directions, their heads barely missing each other.

Heidi Petrelli's blue eyes moved from one guilty face to the other. Claire looked down at the carpet while Peter guilty fidgeted his hands.

Heidi cleared her throat which brought the awkwardness to a new level; "Hello Claire. Always a pleasure seeing you"

Claire smiled but didn't meet Heidi's eyes. "Nice to see you again to Mrs. Petrelli"

"Umm… Peter your brother is looking for you" Claire snorted again making Peter stare at her for a moment before turning back to Heidi.

Peter nodded. Claire moved to grab her coat, shooting a wary glance at him

"Could you tell him I'll be there in a minute? I'm just going to walk Claire outside and get her a cab."

Heidi nodded and closed the door, a knowing smile on her face. It wasn't the first time she had caught her brother-in-law and his girlfriend in compromising positions.

Claire doubled over with laughter, so much that she had to grab Peter's dresser for support. It must have been contagious because Peter lay out on his bed holding his stomach.

Once they had composed themselves enough to get their coats on Peter and Claire made their way toward Park Avenue.

"So am I forgiven?"

"For what?"

"For what happened with dinner with my mother last night"

"Oh Peter I'm not stressing that. Though I'm curious as to what she said about me"

"It was more disapproving stares and such."

"Yeah. At one point I think she even called me a goldigger but I can't be absolutely sure. The scathing remarks were drenched in honey."

"That's Angela Petrelli. She could insult you right to your face but you might not realize it till it's too late to retort."

"It doesn't really matter to me."

"I still feel bad. My mother— she can be— she can be hard sometimes. Scratch that, all the time"

"Peter, the only Petrelli's whose opinions matter to me is yours. As long as you like me I'm good."

Peter smiled, and captured her lips with his while his arm shot out to flag down a cab.

A yellow cab pulled up to the curb and Claire quickly climbed in.

"Call me when you get home."

"Now you know I have to go home and try to figure out where your tickle spots are so don't blame me if I'm to preoccupied to call" Claire replied as if it was something to seriously ponder.

"You better call me." Peter said before he leaned in for another kiss.

The cabbie rolled his eyes as he watched the pair in his rearview mirror. Though young love was always a glorious thing the public displays of affection he saw as a cabbie were starting to weigh on him. He perked up when the young man turned his attention to him.

Peter looked at the cabby's id. The cabbie was a thin brown skinned man with dark hair. Indian, if Peter were to guess off the top of his head

"Mohinder Shresh is it?"

"Yes."

"Can you make sure Clairebear here gets home safe?"

"I'll guard her with my life." Mohinder replied playing along.

Peter and Claire laughed simultaneously. "Thank you and get home safe yourself Mr. Shresh."

Claire blew Peter a kiss as the cab pulled away from the curb. She smiled and stuck her head out the window "Peter!" He turned in her direction "You're forgiven!"

Peter smiled and walked back into the Petrelli townhouse. He immediately made way to Nathan's office.

Nathan was on the phone when he entered. He signaled for Peter to give him a minute with a firm finger. Plopping down in one of the large cushy leather chairs, Peter looked around the mahogany trimmed room.

He hated Nathan's office, actually it used to be their father's office and Peter had hated it just as much then. The reason he hated it was mostly because of the portraits of his Petrelli forefathers. All of them staring down at him with contempt and disappointment. He was never going to live up to the expectations that came with just having his last name. It wasn't because he couldn't live up to those expectations it was because he didn't want to. He wanted a path different from that of the Petrelli men. He didn't have the desire to be a lawyer and he wasn't going to go into law or politics simply because it was what his family wanted.

Peter stared hard at the picture of his father. Anthony Petrelli was a hard man, and an even harder father, at least from his point of view. A man with a prestigious law firm with a reputation for serving some of New York's more unsavory inhabitants. Anthony Petrelli's most famous client was the infamous Mr. Linderman. A mob boss turned real estate and casino tycoon. Though in Peter's opinion for a man like Linderman once a criminal, always a criminal.

"Mom wanted me to talk to you"

"About?"

"She wants to know why instead of trying to get an internship at a law firm you're going to be someone's nursemaid for the summer."

"Because I have no interest in being a lawyer and I'm not going to be playing nursemaid, I'm going to help Mr. Deveaux while he's sick."

"Oh the Nursing thing again? Mom and I thought it was just a phase."

"Guess not." Peter said sarcastically. "Beside mom already has a big shot politician in the family. Plus if she has her way Simon and Monty will be groomed to be just like their father."

Nathan just sighed and shook his head. Peter may not have acted like a Petrelli most of the time but this stubbornness was definitely a trait of theirs.

It was no use trying to talk to Peter when he was like this. He knew if he pushed Peter enough Peter would crumble eventually. He just had to approach this in another way.

"So I heard your girlfriend came for dinner last night."

"Yeah. Mom was none to pleased as I'm sure she told you."

"Mom is they way she is."

"Outright rude you mean."

"Well Peter, Claire is a bit below your status" Nathan said as if it were fact and not just opinion

Peter put up his hand; "Stop right there. I'm not going to listen to you tear Claire down too. Mom did that enough last night" He got up from his chair making way straight for the door. Nathan was pushing his buttons and he really didn't want to have an argument tonight.

"Peter-"

"I seem to recall hearing that around my age you sought affection below your status as well." Peter looked pointedly at his brother.

"But I came to my senses and married Heidi."

"Well I'm not you."

"Goddamnit Peter, when are you going to realize that being a Petrelli comes with particular responsibilities? When you were younger Mom and Dad let you act out however you wanted but now you're going to be starting college and you need to start thinking about you future as a member of this family, as a man in this family. So you don't want to be a lawyer…fine…you're into medicine, be a doctor."

Nathan had his hand on Peter's shoulders now. Peter would have laughed if he hadn't found himself in this position before. The firmness of voice, the tight grip on his shoulders, the squaring of the jaw, the way Nathan's eyes bore into his. He absently wondered if their father had pulled Nathan to the side on day and taught him how to do this or was it just embedded on their DNA. How to persuade a person to agree with you without them really knowing why? But Peter had been down this road before and he immediately pulled away. He turned towards the door, opening it, then stopped, "Maybe I will, but when the time comes that will be my decision not yours, or anybody elses" with that he left the office.


	3. Chapter 2

**Purpose (AU)**

**By: BitbyBit**

**Chapter Two**

San Francisco

Noah Bennet had been comfortable with morally grey for a long time. But even as shady as the line he drew was, the scene before him was not one he could see himself creating. He looked over the where his partner, named the Haitian was kneeling over the body of a sixteen year old girl. A girl who's life ended as soon as she opened front door.

Sylar had killed this whole family. Bennet couldn't fathom why. Did his lust for blood run that deep? He could simply have killed the girl, taken her brain, and moved along. All would have transpired before the rest of family would have realized she was dead. Instead the young girl, her parents and her two young siblings had been slaughtered like cattle.

He glanced back at the body of the young girl again her had had been sliced open and her brain removed. Now his partner had his right hand stretched out over her body, eyes closed, as he mumbled to himself. He felt his heart constrict a little. He didn't know why. Maybe it was because this girl reminded him of his daughter Claire. Maybe it was that this family reminded him so much of his own.

They didn't know what he did for a living. They didn't know the things he saw and did on a daily basis. Hopefully they never would.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the Haitian.

"We'll need to redouble our efforts to find Sylar. His body count is rising too fast and we need to neutralize him before too many people start asking questions."

The Haitian nodded in affirmation.

Bennet pulled out his cell phone, "Stan, cross Natalie Merchin off the bag and tag list. She's dead"

"So this is really just a case of something looking worse than it actually is" The doctor said as she examined the x-rays of Claire Bennet's skull. "I don't see anything, so I think your going make it" She turned to Claire to examine the gash running across the girl's forehead. "Just a cut on the forehead. No stitches."

"None?"

"None" the doctor replied simply.

Claire looked down at her blood soaked t-shirt and examined it for a few minutes. For the amount of blood on it and the pain that had been stabbing at the back of her eyes, she should have been a little worse for wear.

The doctor noted her perplexed look and chose to chime in with her own conclusion. She sat so she was eye level with Claire, "You were just lucky. However, I do recommend holding off on the cheerleading for a week or so, just to be on the safe side. If you feel dizzy or have any sudden onset of pain have your parents bring you in."

Claire nodded in understanding as the doctor gestured for the nurse to bandage her wound.

Sandra Bennet clasped her daughter's shoulders, examining the cut for herself, and smiling, "I think she's right. Now that it's all cleaned it doesn't look that bad at all."

Claire was actually relieved that her injury wasn't that serious. Though from the way everyone was looking at her after her fall she thought she might die. Jackie's new pyramid was definitely not going to pass the coach's safety test. Jackie had bragged that the new routine she devised would do well at the homecoming game. Obviously it was more about making her name go down in the Union Wells Academy history books than about the actual team and anyone who believed otherwise was a idiot.

So up Claire went, to the top of the pyramid…well almost. The maneuvering required for such a stunt wasn't really easy to do and instead of making it to the top Claire found herself falling. She turned just in time to see the gym floor, minus the safety mate, rushing to ward her. Then there was nothing.

When she came too, several concerned faces were looming over her, except Jackie who seemed more annoyed than worried. The coach was speaking to her, but her voice was muffled and seemed far away. Claire put her hand to her head and found blood when she pulled it away. A good amount of blood…

By the time the paramedics arrived the extreme pain she'd felt had dulled considerably to a faint ache.

"I should call your father. I was in the phone with him when the school called." Her mother's voice pulled her back to the present.

"Are you sure you're alright? Maybe you should stay over night"

"No mom, I'm fine. Is Dad coming home tonight?"

Sandra stepped out from behind the curtain, all the while digging into her purse for her phone.

Claire slid off the gurney and went to the nearby mirror. All the pain was gone but the big bandage taking up residence across most of her forehead was pretty unsightly.

"As far as I know he's coming home tonight. Now come on let's get you home."

Claire couldn't help examining the cut in the mirror all through the ride home.

"The doctor said it shouldn't scar to badly" Sandra offered. "And if worse come to worse we can get something done so it doesn't show"

"No it's not that… it's just I was wondering why it wasn't worse."

"Claire, don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Be happy that you were seriously injured. Shame on Jackie for having you up there in the first place."

"It was part of the routine."

"From what I was told it was pretty dangerous either way"

"Well you know cheerleading is hard work. Hard, treacherous work" Claire quipped

Sandra smiled at her daughter. Having been a cheerleader in her prime she knew all too well what kind of injuries a girl could get in the sport. Though when she'd been a cheerleader they weren't pulling most of the stunts the young girl did today. Plus when some of the other cheerleaders disliked you often there were vindictive maneuvers they would pull, which she hoped wasn't the case with Jackie.

Sandra made a quick left onto their street. Their usual parking space awaited them in from of the four-story brownstone.

The Bennets had only moved to New York City some eight years ago much to Claire's delight and Lyle, her younger brother's, despair. In that time they had really settled into their surrounding. The member who benefited most from the move seemed to be Mr. Muggles, the family dog. Finally he had some real competition for the dog shows Mrs. Bennet constantly entered him in. Apparently New York was full of women who loved to show of their prized show dogs.

Claire followed her mother into the four-story brownstone. Mr. Muggles greeted them at the door, happily jumping up and down until Sandra bent down and picked him up. No matter how many time Claire saw her mom shed so much affection on the dog it was still strange to witness.

"Why don't you go and get cleaned up while I'll make dinner."

"Can we have Fajitas?" Claire pouted. Sandra knew her daughter was milking her injury for all it was worth.

"I know they are your favorite, and since you're the walking wounded then I'll make that tonight."

Claire made her way upstairs with Mr. Muggles in tow. She immediately stripped out of her bloody shirt.

She pulled her hair back and gently pulled at the bandage on her forehead. She gasped and pulled in close to the mirror. She must have hit her head harder than she thought because to her it looked like the wound was mostly healed.

"What the hell?" She mumbled to herself.

Shaking the silly notion of instant healing out of her mind she climbed into the shower and let the blood and the day wash down the drain.

The blood dripped slowly from his fingertips. Fixing them got easier each time. No hesitation in his actions. No remorse for what he had done. These people didn't want their abilities. These people didn't deserve these abilities. They didn't deserve to be special.

This girl, she'd been sweet when he approached her. Obviously she thought he was hitting on her. Which was fine, it just made his job easier. This girl had the ability to manipulate machines. He'd watched her do it, even though she thought he didn't. It was fascinating to watch. With just a light touch she could make the machines around her do anything.

He fixed her right there behind the Best Buy where she worked.

He was becoming more and more special with each fix. After all it was his destiny to be special. His mother had told him so since he was little and it want a coincidence that Chandra Suresh had found him.

Even now there was no one as or more special than him.


	4. Chapter 3 part one

A/N: The part turned out to be longer once i did a bit of editing so I split it into two aprts. I'll post the other part by tomorrow.

**Chapter Three (part one)**

Peter had to laugh at how out of place Nathan looked among the jeans and t-shirt clad patrons of the diner near NYU. Nathan sat in one of the booths in his custom made suits and slicked-back hair. He slide in across from Nathan and gave him a smile.

"Took you long enough" Nathan sniped not looking up from his menu.

"Sorry. I know how you like people prompt."

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

"About my dream"

Nathan slammed his menu down; "Peter not that again!"

"Good Afternoon, can I get you boys anything to drink or are you ready to order?" The waitress asked leaning over the table.

She had a hard southern accent and bright red hair that complemented her big brown eyes nicely.

"Coffee and a turkey on rye with everything." Nathan said quickly. The red-head waitress nodded. She turned to Peter who brow furrowed as he looked over his menu.

"What can I get you honey?"

Peter looked up at her then leaned in and read her nametag; a gesture that was inherently Peter.

"This may be a personal question but where are you from originally… Charlie?

"Texas. Midland to be exact:"

"Is that anywhere near Odessa?"

"Not far. What do you know about Texas city boy?"

"My girlfriend was born in Odessa."

"Oh, well you be good to her. We Texas girls may be tough on the outside, but were softies on the inside. What can I get you to eat?

"I'll have pancakes, home fries and big glass of orange juice." The waitress smiled fondly as Peter ordered then took their menus and walked away.

Nathan shook his head, covering his face with his menu at how childlike Peter could seem sometimes. Exchanges like that were a constant occurrence with Peter. He could just make people open up and smile. He had expected that to dwindle with age but obviously it hadn't. Though as an older brother he guessed that was always how he would view Peter. He remembered when Peter would only eat pancakes; pancakes and orange juice. He must have been five or six and all he wanted was pancakes all day everyday. Peter was nothing but not devoted. Once he committed to liking something or a particular idea it was hard to deter him to otherwise.

"About my dream…"

"Peter, do not start this…"

"I had a dream about dad. I dreamt about the accident and dad… all that blood and screaming." Peter's eyes glazed over. He was talking but it wasn't to Nathan.

That did stop him. The accident involving their father was something they just didn't talk about – at all. Everyone felt was in Peter's best interest that they didn't discuss it. Nathan stared at his brother for a minute. Now he felt bad for not listening to Peter earlier when he'd called. Neither of them needed to revisit this, especially Peter. He reached over and grabbed Peter's hand, snapping him back to reality.

"Peter…"

" Then I was standing up on this roof and then I was flying…"

"Flying?" Nathan cocked his head

"Yeah. All over New York, it felt so real"

Nathan folded his arms.

"Then when I got out of bed my foot hovered–– for a split second, like I was floating. I know how this sounds but I'm telling you I think I can fly"

Nathan sighed. "Am I going to have to send you back to the doctor?"

Peter's forehead creased and he scoffed. "This is not about me being crazy Nathan. Something is happening to me and I have the feeling that you are the only one who's going to understand."

"Why the hell would I understand that you think you can fly?!"

"Because you're my brother"

"Peter, listen, if you need to talk to someone about this—

Peter sat back and folded his arms across his chest. Nathan would have laughed if the conversation weren't so fragile to begin with.

"The thing with dad—

"Mom blames me for it you know."

"She doesn't"

"She does. She wouldn't tell me that to my face, but she does. She can't even look me in the eye most of the time."

Nathan could deny this forever but even the words seemed hollow to him. He knew that their mother blamed Peter for what happened to their father. Every time she looked at Peter there was no longer this loving look, well as loving as Angela Petrelli could get. There had always been this light in her eyes when she looked at Peter now there was a faint hint of disdain; one that he's hoped Peter would never notice. Peter wasn't the most observant sometimes but this hadn't managed to escape his attention. Their mother was better at holding her tongue about such things. He however, had not been so good at it. He regretted what he said to Peter the day after their father's funeral. Words that he couldn't take back, words that hurt Peter so much that he disappeared for a week, words that made Peter…

Nathan pressed his fingers to his eyes to the point of pain hoping to sear the images away.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

They spent the rest of the lunch in silence. Nathan could tell there were several instances where Peter wanted to continue but he didn't. It wasn't until they were about to go their separate ways that Nathan touched on the subject again. "Listen Peter, if you want I can call Dr. Parkman and you can talk this out with him."

"No. I'm sorry I mentioned it."

"Where are you headed now?"

"I have to head over to Ms. Deveaux office to find out if my internship plan was acceptable"

"You need a ride?"

Peter nodded in the negative. Nathan watched him for a few minutes a before climb in his car and making his way back to his office.

Simone Deveaux was not having a good day. On top of all of the issues she faced at work she had to deal with those drugged out antics of her boyfriend. It was her own fault really; she knew Isaac was still using and she'd decided to stay with him. That didn't mean she had to watch him slowly kill himself though. She hadn't spoken to Isaac in almost a week and that last meeting had ended in a fight.

Isaac had been raving that his newest set of paintings were evil; that he'd been high when he painted them. He was also convinced that he had painted the future. It was crazy talk; though she couldn't ignore the fact that Isaac had painted a suicide bombing that had only happened that morning. He was so sure about it, so adamant, that she need to take a few steps back. She didn't believe that a person could paint the future that was impossible. Isaac had been hurt that she thought he was crazy but she couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't keep fighting with him for every inch, even more so since he was falling further and further away from her because of the drugs.

He phone vibrated n her hips pulling her out if her thoughts; Isaac was calling again. She put the phone face down on her desk and buried her head in her hands.

"Umm Ms. Deveaux" Peter poked his head into the office

"Ohh peter, I didn't hear you come in"

"Is this a bad time."

"Oh no, no, come in."

Peter sat down across from her. "I have good news; the department head said that if you wanted to do you internship with my father and his hospice nurse that would be fine"

"Great"

"You don't so enthusiastic"

"No I am it's just this is about as much support as I'm going to get for this. "

"I imagine nursing wasn't in the Petrelli life plan for you?"

"Not from my parents end it wasn't. I tried to get into law but I hated it the whole time"

"Well Peter— "

She was cut off again when her cell vibrated against the table. Simone sighed and slammed the phone back down. "As much as I hate to rush you off I need to go take care of a few personal things" Simone began packing her purse, she looked over at the things in the corner she need to take to her car for her gallery.

"Ohh sure, no problem. Do you need any help with getting that stuff to your car?"

"That would be great."

Peter followed Simone as they walked toward her car. As they neared it she stopped short, causing Peter to almost slam into her. He saw the man leaning against Simone's car. He was curled in on himself. His face was drenched with sweat and his clothes were torn and dirty. He looked homeless, Peter assumed he was until Simone spoke.

"Isaac? What the hell are you doing here?"

"You're not taking my calls."

"Then what makes you think I wan to see you?!"

"Simone, I need you"

"You need me?! You don't need me, all you need are those drugs and you're good"

"That's not true I love you"

"Not enough to stop using apparently"

Peter's gaze darted around awkwardly as he watched the exchange. He stuck his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. Clearly an unwilling spectator he felt like he was witnessing something he really shouldn't be. He should have left then but he wanted to make sure Simone would be alright.

"I don't have time to play this game with you. When you want to get yourself cleaned up then come looking for me but right now I don't want to see you." Simone pushed past Isaac and he reached for her. She pushed him away and he fell to the ground.

Peter was about to move to help him but he wasn't sure if her should.

"What's wrong with you?"

"That what I'm trying to tell you. I stopped using and…"

"And what?"

"I need you"

Simone's shoulder slumped. She looked at Peter who only shrugged. "Come on let's get you to a hospital"

"No hospital!"

"Well what do you want me to do? You need help."

"Take me home. All I need is you"

Simone took Isaac's arm and helped him to his feet. With Peter; help she got him into the car. You're never going to get him into his apartment by yourself"

Simone sighed. As much as she hated to drag Peter into this she was right. I'm sorry about this.

Isaac slumped against Peter as they rode in the elevator up to his loft. The painter was barely conscious as it was and Simone looked even more dejected as they neared Isaac's floor.

The door to the loft was open when they arrived and the loft itself was in chaos. Simone led Peter over the bed and he slowly laid Isaac down.

"I think I've got it from here Peter. Thank you."

Peter gave her a small smile and turned to walk out of the loft when something caught his eye. He walked over to the paintings leaning up against the far wall. One in particular had his undivided attention.

It was a painting of him, dressed exactly as he was today, flying. Peter stared dumbfounded at the painting for what seemed like forever. He turned to look at Isaac then turned back to the painting. He had never met this man, yet here there was a painting of him, doing what he believed so strongly that he could.

Peter turned on his heel and sped out of the loft.

Nathan passed the cabbie a twenty as he climbed out of the car. "Alright I'm here so what's the big emergency?"

There was a crashing noise beside him and Nathan looked down to see the remains of what was once Peter's cell phone.

His gaze moved upwards until his eyes fell on Peter, perched on the roof's edge.

"I'm not crazy Nathan."

"What are you doing Peter"

"I'm going to prove to you that I can fly"

"Peter. You. Can. Not. Fly! Now stop screwing around!"

"Nathan…"

"Ok just hold on I'm coming up there"

Nathan was out of breath when he finally reached the roof. Peter was still at the edge only now he was standing, his arms spread out.

"Peter, please… this is insane. What you are saying is insane. You cannot fly"

"I can. I'm not the only one who sees that"

Nathan inched closer as he spoke, hoping to God he could reach for Peter before he did anything stupid. "Peter, please… just come here and we'll talk about this" He kept his eyes locked on Peter's as he moved closer and closer

Peter turned and looked down once more before stepping off the ledge.

To be continued


End file.
